


azvasana

by AllegoriesInMediasRes



Series: Ramayana fics [31]
Category: Ramayana - Valmiki
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Grief, Mistrust, Mother-son relationships, Oneshot, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25892989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllegoriesInMediasRes/pseuds/AllegoriesInMediasRes
Summary: Bharata was never the center of attention, never the best-adored. Rama was the sun around which all others orbited. Still, Bharata was a prince, and he never thought scandal could touch him. But as he rides into the streets of Ayodhya where he had walked among theprajato dispense charity, and dismounts in the courtyards where he had learned to shoot a bow, as he strides through the hallways where he had scampered and dodged Manthara’s attempts to discipline him, all eyes gaze upon him with suspicion and resentment, and he thinks he has never been so universallyhated.Kaushalya Ma’s weary sorrow wrenches Bharata’s heart like nothing else.azvasana (Sanskrit): consoling, reviving
Relationships: Bharata & Kaikeyi, Bharata & Kausalya
Series: Ramayana fics [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1105638
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	azvasana

Bharata was never the center of attention, never the best-adored. Rama was the sun around which all others orbited. Still, Bharata was a prince, and he never thought scandal could touch him. But as he rides into the streets of Ayodhya where he had walked among the _praja_ to dispense charity, and dismounts in the courtyards where he had learned to shoot a bow, as he strides through the hallways where he had scampered and dodged Manthara’s attempts to discipline him, all eyes gaze upon him with suspicion and resentment, and he thinks he has never been so universally _hated_.

* * *

His own mother’s disappointment always cut the deepest. She was their arms-master and their taskmaster, and she was ruthless in weeding out weakness in the Ikshvaku heirs. But Kaushalya Ma’s weary sorrow wrenches Bharata’s heart like nothing else. Grieving for her husband and her sons, she is already resigned to her belief that Bharata was part of the scheming. “You wanted this kingdom, and by Kaikeyi’s cruel deed, you obtained it so quickly and smoothly.” 

She is not even angry. “I only wonder why she did not send me to the forest with Rama, there to wear deerskin and walk among thorns. Now that you have this vast kingdom, you might well do it yourself.”

She will not look at him.

Kaushalya Ma, who had sat up all night with Bharata when he was feverish, who had wiped away the dust from a thousand scraped knees with the cloth of her _pallu_ , who had let him and Rama braid flowers they picked into her hair. Kaushalya Ma thinks of him so, and it is enough to send him onto his knees, his hands fisting in her skirts and his tongue twisting and stammering, as he tries to make her understand.

Mother -- Kaikeyi -- has rendered it thus. She who always spoke of calm and cunning and finesse in the midst of battle -- what possessed her to do such a thing, to fling aside all sense? To do this to him ? No one will ever trust him again, for no fault of his own.

He thinks he could not hate her more, and anger rises up in him.

But the tide of desperation defeats the waves of rage, for the present, as he seeks to ensure that Kaushalya Ma, she who gave birth to Rama, does not brand him a schemer like the creature who bore him.

Words tumble out of him, oaths and condemnations nearly falling over one another in their haste to scramble out. Curses upon everyone and anyone who looked favorably upon the _vanvass_. He sounds nothing like how Father and Rama did when they spoke in court, commanding and sonorous. He does not know how to sound like a king, how to fulfill his mother’s ambition, and he is not a king now. He is a boy, bereft of his father and his brothers and his mother, and he cannot lose his stepmothers too.

She sits like a statue with her face turned away from him, but the rigid line of her profile softens, and her chin dips from its stubborn stance, and her arms, crossed and iron-limbed, guide his head to rest on her lap. Kaushalya Ma finally lowers her eyes -- Rama’s eyes -- to meet his own, and they are overbright with relief and mutual guilt. He knows his eyes must look the same. He burrows his head into the skirts of her lap, and together they weep.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this scene](https://www.valmikiramayan.net/utf8/ayodhya/sarga75/ayodhya_75_frame.htm) from the Valmiki Ramayana.


End file.
